


Bang Bang, Goes The Broken Glass

by ElizabethOlsenIsMySpiritAnimal



Series: How To Fuck Your Sokovian Slut [26]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Scarlet Witch (Comic), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abuse, Abuse of Authority, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Anal Sex, Bad Ending, Bittersweet, Bittersweet Ending, Bondage, Breeding, Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Dark Fic Fest, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Evil Author Day, Evil Author Day 2020, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Forced Pregnancy, Gang Rape, Green Day References, Hurt Wanda Maximoff, Impregnation, Inspired by Music, Male Character of Color, Masturbation, Minor Wanda Maximoff/Vision, Misogyny, Non-Consensual Bondage, Oral Sex, Physical Abuse, Pregnancy, Prison, Raceplay, Racism, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rescue, Restraints, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Sex, Sexist Language, Sexual Abuse, Song: Holiday (Green Day), The Author Regrets Everything, The Raft Prison (Marvel), Title From A Green Day Song, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Abuse, Violence, Violent Sex, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug, prison rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:08:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22743790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizabethOlsenIsMySpiritAnimal/pseuds/ElizabethOlsenIsMySpiritAnimal
Summary: It doesn’t take a genius to figure out the end result of sending a beautiful woman - like say, Wanda Maximoff - to a maximum-security prison in the middle of nowhere, with nobody around to stop the ones in charge from abusing their power.Really, it doesn’t.
Relationships: Wanda Maximoff & Original Male Character(s), Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff & Vision, Wanda Maximoff/Original Male Character(s), Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Series: How To Fuck Your Sokovian Slut [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1302323
Comments: 33
Kudos: 62





	Bang Bang, Goes The Broken Glass

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Restricted Work] by [Rubynye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye). Log in to view. 



> Well, here it is, folks.
> 
> The culmination of the last several months worth of dark fics. You know the ones, lesbian vampires raping people/converting them, Tony raping Wanda, the Bloodborne fic, even my Jedi: Fallen Order fic (I swear to god I'll get back to that one day). All of it leading up to this, this piece that takes every single theme I use and dunks it head-first into the Dark Side of the Force. There's a bit of a story behind this thing, but it's a twenty-hour story and I only like telling it in five-minute intervals.
> 
> I'll meet you once more at the notes downstairs. I'd say enjoy, but well, um...probably not the best choice of words for this one. 
> 
> I need a fucking drink.

//

_“Please understand, Max...the only place I can be ‘myselfie’ is in the Dark Room.”_

_\- Mark Jefferson, Life Is Strange_

//

**_(A Flag Wrapped Around A Score Of Men / Sokovian Is The New Black / Hear The Dogs Howling Out Of Key)_ **

//

The prisoners - decided the man, one of substantially more importance than everyone else in the room, and perhaps even the prison itself - were the sorriest bunch he’d ever seen.

Now admittedly, that was probably a very narrow superlative there, because he’d seen a lot of sorry bunches, but as far as he was concerned, this was the sorriest. To be fair, they _were_ the very first people to be welcomed aboard the Raft as permanent tenants - an honor, dubious and twisted, but honor nonetheless - and anyone who’d been unlucky enough to be brought aboard the floating boat of despair was definitely sorry in some form.

Unlucky bastards.

There were four of them, an archer, a thief, a flyer and a witch. The first three had come through in-processing with little fanfare, the guards doing their job to march them down to their cells and then leave them there with roughly the same enthusiasm one took a state-mandated exam or spent time with their grandmother, that is to say, none. But when the fourth came about-

-something in the air changed.

The guards, of which there were several - all men, to be quite precise - looked up, from wherever their post was, and stared as she was brought in. The biometrics told her name, Wanda Maximoff, and her litany of crimes was numerous, but to be frank-

-that wasn’t exactly important right now.

The man - black, an important detail for the reader to acknowledge for reasons that would soon become apparent - looked up, and watched as the witch was brought into the room, hands cuffed behind her back, duct tape slapped across her mouth, the frankly beautiful brunette clad in an ensemble that was clearly designed to hit the male libido with the force of a lead pipe, and going by the looks his fellows were shooting at him, it seemed it was working. The guard at the terminal entered in her information with slightly more enthusiasm than before, and as the two holding her by her cuffed arms made to leave in the same direction as her fellows-

“Actually, I’ll handle this one personally.”

-the man - deciding it was finally time to put that hard-earned rank of his to good use - piped up. With confusion, the two guards looked towards their superior, and he walked over, placing a hand upon the witch. “This one deserves a more...personal touch.” The man said, and with that, he motioned for his charges to carry on, getting a groan out of them. As he took ahold of Wanda and led her away - in a direction that definitely didn’t lead to where her colleagues had been taken - he supposed that his subordinates would be a bit frustrated at his decision to not include him in what he had planned. He didn’t care. He wasn’t a sharing kind of guy, at least, not while he was breaking in this particular prisoner. In any case, they’d get their turns soon enough, so-

-they’d get over it.

//

This part of the Raft was deserted.

Admittedly, that wasn’t a big surprise, it _was_ solitary confinement, after all, you know, the place where people went to lose their minds as they were made to imitate The Count of Monte Cristo, except with slightly less digging since there were no holes to be dug on a floating prison made entirely of man-made materials. The man supposed that what he had planned sort of defeated the purpose of solitary confinement, but he really couldn’t have been bothered to care. 

He made the rules, after all. 

Ushering Wanda into the cell at the end of the hallway - the most distant part on the floating prison, to be exact - the man let go of his charge and took stock of what was available to them. There was a bed in the damnable little room, it wasn’t the comfiest looking thing - but hell, he wasn’t the one going to be sleeping on it - and some other miscellaneous things lying around, of little consequence, and thus they were ignored. And so, like a predator stalking prey through the jungle-

-the man struck.

With a firm hand, he shoved Wanda onto the mattress, and produced some rope. Grasping the brunette by her bound arms, he turned her about, ignoring the indignant glint in her eyes and the muffled protests as he set about tying up her legs, pulling them each in opposite directions, spreading them quite nicely, if he did say so himself. With what sounded like muffled demands to know what he was doing filling the air, the man casually tied Wanda’s left leg to the bed, then her right, and then he stepped behind her and lifted her up just a bit so he could uncuff her hands. Tossing away the handcuffs, he repeated the process, and a couple of moments later, he had a nicely bound Sokovian tied firmly to the bed.

Licking his lips, the man leaned forward and began to paw at her corset. Fingers dug into the thing, undoing the strings holding it together, one by one, until her breasts spilled out of it with a definitive _twang_ of the last string that had been holding those voluptuous things back. Wanda - it seemed - came to a dreadful realization about what his intentions were, and began to struggle, not that it did much, given that she was tied quite securely. He knew how to tie a rope, thank you very much, and no amount of squirming would loosen those bonds.

With Wanda’s breasts exposed to the slightly chilly prison air, the man turned his attention to her pants. They were sleek, black, and expensive looking - all excellent points, but ultimately irrelevant - and so, the man hooked his fingers into them, and with some application of strength, tore them apart, the sound of ripping fabric drowning out the muffled Sokovian’s protestations. Conveniently, Wanda’s panties had also been a victim of the forceful removal of her pants - or at least the parts that covered her nether bits, though why anyone would choose to describe the aforementioned as such was anyone’s guess - leaving her pussy exposed to the air, just as her breasts were. 

And so, the man began to strip.

If it was possible for a bound, somewhat-naked woman to struggle even more, well, it happened, Wanda squirming and pulling at her restraints with as much force as she could muster. The man, completely unconcerned with this, took off all of his clothes with some haste, set them in a corner of the cell, and reached out to strip the duct-tape gag from Wanda’s mouth. She had such a pretty pair of lips, after all-

“What the _fuck_ are you doing?!”

-it would’ve been a crime to not put them to use. “Figure it out, bitch.” He said, and with a wicked smile, the man leaned down and forced his lips upon Wanda’s, muffling her words. He angled himself upon the bed, hands pressing against her breasts, erect cock already pressing against her cunt. Without asking - though he wouldn’t have anyways - the man forced his cock into Wanda’s pussy a moment after, reveling in the agonized, pained moan the brunette made. 

“No no, stop-”

Silencing her demand with another kiss, the man - roughly at that - started thrusting, Wanda’s words immediately devolving into pained moaning. God, she felt better than he could’ve imagined. The little bitch’s cunt was so tight - only faintly wet, she wasn’t turned on a bit, not that he cared - and it squeezed his cock so well, her unwilling folds massaging his thick, black cock very nicely. 

“Stop, _stop-”_

“What’s the matter, whore, you don’t like being punished for your actions?” He taunted, staring into shocked hazel eyes. “You fucked with the law, Wanda-” He said, saying her name in a mocking manner, punctuating his words with thrusts the whole while. “-it’s about time it started fucking with you.” He laughed at his own stupid pun, before resuming his assault on Wanda’s mouth, forcing the words away from her throat as he silenced her with forceful kisses. The man switched tactics and groped her ass for a bit, moving his lips to her throat to press a hard kiss - and leave a hickey in the process - to her soft, delicate skin.

“Please don’t do this-”

“Oh, don’t be so shocked-” Said the man, in a tone of voice far too cheery for someone carrying out what he was carrying out. “-dress like a slut, be treated like a slut, get fucked like a slut-” He smirked and pressed another kiss to the struggling witch’s lips. “-and knocked up like a slut.” He added, almost as an afterthought.

_“What?!”_

“You don’t really think we’re just gonna let your little gift go to waste, do you?” Asked the man, noting how Wanda’s cunt had begun to moisten and coat his black cock in slick - unwanted - arousal. “Seeing as you can’t be a productive member of society, you’re gonna do your part to ensure the safety of the American people by putting your cunt to good use serving the great US of A.” He winked and kissed her, the thought of his unwilling charge’s stomach swelling with his kids making him speed up his thrusts, the swifter movements of his cock making her moan, however unwillingly. “Have you _make_ lives instead of take them.” Again, another laugh in response to the stupid pun of his own making. 

“You sick fu-”

“I’m sorry, which one of us is the mass murderer here? You are, you ungrateful little slut.” Retorted the man, face hardening for the brief moment it took that wave of anger to spark and pass - aided at least in part by his impending orgasm - his hand coming up to caress Wanda’s face and give it a playful little pinch. “You’re just unhappy right now because of how upended your life is at the moment.” He said, in the most sickly-sweet tone _ever._ “Soon, you’ll come to accept your place here, doing nothing but popping out gifted babies for us to raise the American way, so they can be good little soldiers and put down threats like you and your friends.” Smiling once more, he shifted positions, bracing a hand against Wanda’s right leg as he took in the sight of the bound, struggling witch. “I’m gonna cum, you little whore…” He drawled, abandoning all sense of faux-civility. “...gonna breed your tight little cunt with lots of little black babies.” 

“No, no! Pull out, _pull out-”_

The man did not do what his prisoner had asked, and to the sound of Wanda’s begging cries, he came, blowing his load deep inside of the brunette witch, seeding the unwilling witch’s womb. Wanda gasped and moaned, an unwanted orgasm pushing its way to the forefront of her mind and cutting off whatever protests she might’ve had as she came on his cock, the Sokovian howling in agonized ecstasy as she hit her unwanted peak. Throughout it all, the man continued to cum, causing just a faint bit of expansion in her lower abdomen as the sheer amount of cum flooded Wanda’s unwilling cunt, leaking out about his cock and sliding down her skin and onto her jacket.

“No...” 

“God, that felt _so_ amazing.” Said the man, as he pulled out of Wanda, ignoring the gush of cum that spilled out. “That’s just the first step, Wanda.” He said, as he leaned down to give the bound, crying woman a mocking kiss. “Cause I’m not the only one who's gonna be putting babies inside of you, in addition to using you like the cheap whore you are…”

As if to prove the point, there was an echo of booted feet behind him. The man turned around, and saw a number of his fellows - no doubt attracted by the noise, his absence, and the fact that there may or may not have been a camera watching the whole thing go down - standing nearby, visible bulges in their pants. With a smile, he pulled away from Wanda and gestured at her.

“Enjoy, boys!”

He hardly needed to have said a thing. In an instant, the crowd of guards surged forward, each one jockeying for a position in one of Wanda’s holes, be it her mouth, her ass, or most importantly, her pussy, that coveted, cum-stained thing. The horrified witch struggled against the tide, to no avail, and soon, muffled shrieks of pain and delighted moans of pleasure filled the air as every man aboard the Raft - well, excepting those three idiots safely locked away in their cells somewhere - began to have fun. The instigator, however, simply watched in a corner, stroking himself slowly to the sight of his men raping the helpless bitch, a wicked smile on his face as he waited patiently for an opening, a second chance to enjoy himself in the little witch’s holes. 

“There’s no escape, Wanda-” He murmured, more to himself if anything, as an agonized howl tore through the air.

“-no escape at all…”

//

There was no end to the tide of men.

Like a parade of everything that was wrong with humanity, they came in an endless stream, number beyond counting, each one using her without a care for how she felt. Her throat burned from the force of how some of the rougher men - and there had been a lot of them - chose to fuck her mouth, dried - and drying - cum staining her lips and mouth and dripping down her chin as yet another man forced himself into her throat, knocking the breath from her with every rough thrust and making her choke and gag as he blew his load down her throat. She could feel a man fucking her ass without a care for how rough he was being, his cock filling it with yet another load of cum, adding to the myriad mix of seed that already filled it, and somewhere above her, a man moaned as he shot another series of violating ropes into her abused cunt, squeezing her throat so hard she saw stars.

She’d been called every name in the book, _freak, monster, bitch, whore, slut, cunt, killer, murderer,_ among other, somehow _less_ polite terms, mostly of the racist and sexist kind. 

The men - both those currently raping and those waiting semi-patiently like it was an amusement park ride - freely talked among themselves about her, speaking as if she was an inanimate object, a doll, a broken one at that. She heard them speak of how good her holes felt, of how worthless she was, of how her purpose was to do nothing but breed gifted children who would be raised to be the perfect soldiers for them to throw into whatever fight they desired. In their eyes, she was naught but a piece of meat to be used as they wished, and used she was. 

Wanda’s entire body ached, pain and exhaustion wracking her, and yet the tide still persisted, man upon man sating himself in her ass, her mouth, her pussy, then moving aside to let the next one in, like a twisted Disneyland ride everyone wanted a turn on, a circle, a mean cycle. It was an unending, infinite parade of sick, base, barbaric desires, and all Wanda could do was find solace in the deepest, darkest corners of her mind, abandoning her body to be used as they pleased while she tried desperately to save her soul. She shut out the world around her, submerging herself into the depths of her consciousness and drowning herself in nothingness.

So when the lights flickered and went out, she didn’t notice.

She didn’t notice the sound of gunfire, crackling electricity, vibranium singing, a familiar whine of an energy beam. She didn’t notice their screams as something tore them limb from bloody limb, and she didn’t notice the thumping of bodies collapsing as whoever it was that had barged in on their fun saw fit to visit bloody vengeance upon them. She didn’t-

“Oh god, Wanda!”

-hear the thumping as Steve practically barged into her cell, an expression of horror writ upon his face. The super-soldier swiftly cut apart her bonds and scooped Wanda into his arms with all the care of a father attending to his daughter. The brunette didn’t notice, feeling like she was floating under an icy lake, limbs frozen and mind wrapped in an icy chill- 

“Wanda, can you hear me?”

-and the soft voice of Vision cut through the ice like an avenging angel, and slowly, somewhere in the depths of Wanda’s mind, her consciousness began to stir. Her eyes turned towards the android, and her chapped, broken lips parted ever so slightly, barely functional lungs forcing a single word through-

“Vision…”

“Wanda?” Vision asked, staring at the brutalized Sokovian with what looked to be a mixture of horror and sorrow dancing in his synthetic eyes. “Can you hear me?”

“...take me home…”

Wanda whispered those three words over and over, practically begging him with what little strength she had left, something that resembled tears spilling from her eyes as she begged, begged, _begged_ for salvation. “You heard her.” Steve said, as he handed the Sokovian off to the android. “Take her to the jet. I’m gonna get the others.” 

“Yes, Captain.” 

Dimly, Wanda was aware of the sensation of moving, being carried gently across broken corridors and blood-soaked halls. Dimly, she thought she saw broken bodies lying about this way and that, the men who had visited unspeakable agony upon her twisted and bloodied and broken like toys after a child’s tantrum. And dimly, over and over, all she could hear through muffled ears was Vision, saying-

“I’m sorry Wanda. I’m so sorry.”

-the brunette said nothing, limp in Vision’s arms, the remnants of her clothes clinging to her, just as her broken soul clung to her frame. As she was carried higher and higher throughout the Raft, a part of Wanda felt like she was ascending from darkness, coming closer to the ice, cracking it ever so slightly more. She heard the tapping of vibranium fingers on keys, the hiss of the Raft’s doors opening, the outline of the jet manifesting in her vision, just barely visible in her tired eyes. As one foot was put in front of the other, drawing her closer to the metaphorical gate to salvation, the ice began to splinter more and more, and with one final step-

-it shattered as Wanda’s broken form was carried out into the ocean air, where the rain began to softly dance across her skin, washing away the pain.

//

**Author's Note:**

> ...hi, I'm back. Just like I said I'd be back.
> 
> So, uh, with this piece done, the Dark Fics are (officially) over, and we'll be moving into much brighter, cheerier stuff, which is my wheelhouse. As is per-usual, a post-shot lollipop will come about soon (soon-ish) to help wash the ugliness that is this story out of your minds and all that crap. HTFYSS' usual programming will continue and all that jazz, and if you wish, feel free to leave feedback or whatever.
> 
> Cheers!


End file.
